The Great Bloodied One
by Raxychaz
Summary: Oh Bloody Hunter, whose thirst never ends. Oh Lady in your castle, cast in Iron, Mother of Blood, whose life gave us Him. Oh Maiden, whose blades are like wind. Oh Great One, bless your children, for we are unworthy and seek greatness. (Menma/Hellsing/Bloodborne.)
1. Chapter 1

**I hope I can convey the slight development of mania over the course of this prologue. If all else fails I'll have to try harder next time.**

Once upon a time, there was a Child of Blood. This Child was from a land to the north, shrouded in mystery and frosted walls. The Hunter hailed from the land of city-state of Castle Cainhurst, groomed with the Knights to hunt and kill, taught by the nobles to be a proper upstanding member of their caste, the Hunter had found himself in the town of Yharnam, on a long journey home once more.

And in so doing, the Child of Blood, became a Hunter of Beasts. For his thirst for more was unquenched with the introduction of the Yharnamite blood into his corrupted veins, the Child of Blood sought out more and more. The streets were littered with husk-like corpses, the Hunter drained all those he came across for their 'Blood Echoes' the remnants of the creatures strength and wisdom, the feral citizens provided him a meager snack, but he had his first real taste coming upon the Cleric Beast, hulking, ferocious and covered in silver-grey fur the beast was devoured like those before it, but this time, the Hunter felt satisfaction, both mental and physical, the lethargic feeling he'd had since arriving in this sleepy town was banished with the blood of the Cleric Beast.

So he hunted more, and more. All those he came across left as nothing but husks of dried meat.

Eileen the Crow, Hunter of Hunters, saw what would happen and tried to reason with the fool boy. He saw reason, but gluttony was more than reason enough to pursue his desires. And so he killed the old woman, stole her badge, her daggers and her blood. Leaving only a lifeless corpse. Pallid and dry.

The Dream, sustained the bloodthirsty Hunter, the Doll his ever present companion, his channeler of the Blood, the centre of his world for the long, dogged night. Gherman, the anchor of the Dream, became a mentor and offerer of guidance for his hunts. Gherman was a quiet, soft spoken old man, but there was a solemn goodness in his heart. The Child respected this good man, for now he would allow this man to be.

For now.

And so the Bloody Hunter continued, he slew Gascoigne, The Blood Starved Beast, Vicar Amelia, then he was dragged into the nightmare that was more like a wonderful holiday for him, so much blood, _sooo_ much power! The Hunter's Nightmare was a paradise of red. Ludwig, the deformed monstrosity he was, fell to him, after a great many attempts. He was not ashamed to say that the man, even in his deformed state, lived up to his legacy. Though the Moonlight blade was well worth the effort.

After Ludwig was Laurence the First Vicar, a Cleric Beast swathed in fire, bleeding lava. Considerably easier to the Holy Blade but still a wrong foot placed could spell disaster. He climbed a great tower filled with abominations of a twisted science, facing off against the Living Failures was a surreal experience, his first real touch of the Lovecraftian horrors that awaited him much further down the line, the arcane abilities they exhibited were powerful but misguided and inaccurate.

Maria though...

"Doll?" He remembered asking, he was clad in a mixed set, a simple Hunters Coat without the shoulder-cape to catch blood, it was grey in colour but of a fine make. Charred Hunters gauntlets, he found it odd that only one glove was armoured so rectified it shortly after acquiring them, a light plating over the right glove was now in place. Charred Hunter boots, a trio of belted buckles along the calf to keep them sealed and secure, and finally a triangular Hunters hat and mask, he wanted to pick up the habit of keeping his mouth out of view. "Doll what are you doing here?" He almost sprinted across the room, sliding into a kneel and taking the cold, bloodied hands into his own, her face was almost the same in every way.

"What did you call me?"Asked the 'corpse' her hands leaving his and holding each side of his head, forcing their eyes to lock, burning, molten gold and pale, crystal blue. Both had pale coloured hair, like snow, though his was more loose and shaggy where as hers was kept in a neat ponytail.

"Doll... but her blood is white, who are you to look like her so?"

Turns out, this was his distant relative Maria, the Child of Blood and the Maiden of Skill _did_ end up crossing blades, but not death came from it, Maria may have gone mad with bloodlust but it seemed her relative was just as bad. Yet retained his sense.

Long story short Maria joined him on his little crusade for more blood.

Everything seemed to go arse up, the Orphan of Kos. Ignoring all that came in between including a fancy little weapon called the Bowblade, the Orphan was by far the hardest fight he'd had thus far. The random movement, the speed, the sheer force that came with each blow, the Bloody Hunter resorted to using his birthright just to fight the demented creature. The 'Blood Magic' of the Pthumarians, their ancestors, to poison the little shit, then it went and _transformed!_

Bigger, quicker, stronger. All around more a pain to deal with.

Maria found it all _very_ amusing.

But he killed Orphan and with it, broke the Nightmare. Dragging Maria away and into the Dream with him. The moment when Doll and Maria met was very surreal. A small voice in the back of his head gave an amused 'Twins'.

It mattered little, Gherman was in the garden off to the side, peacefully asleep, for apparently the first time in years. Menma big the man a silent farewell before continuing where he left off, his mother's cousin, or something similar, at his side.

The Bloody Hunter and the Maiden of Skill carved further into the depths of this mad land, butchering the Witch of Hemwick and then it was off to visit Mother. The stagecoach was pulled by a pair of black, rotting steeds. The horses recognized the blood of their masters and the letter sent from their mistress, their paces was doubled.

Castle Cainhurst was overrun, in the courtyard at least, by Bloodlickers, filthy creatures. Giant grey skinned bags of blood. So of course he devoured them. Ol' Moonlight made quick work of them. The ghosts of the past nobles left him be, the servants bowed as he approached, and the Gargoyles just knew better.

Logarius.

He did not like this man. He claimed all those of the vile blood were despicable creatures when in truth it didn't take corrupt blood to do great evil. A hungry animal like himself probably had no place judging others for their moral outlooks but it still irked him greatly that the frosty man tried to cage his mother like some feral animal.

Shooting the weapon from his hand and burying his hand into the rotting corpses chest was most satisfying. The Bloody Hunter took one of his hands as an Arcane trinket, and feasted heartily on the blood echoes left behind.

"Child of our blood." Greeted his mother, the Hunter removed his hat and pulled his mask down, smiling, revealing sharp, animalistic teeth, he approached, Maria hanging back in the shadows to watch, "We warm at the sight of thee."

They did not hug often, in his youth he was a creature fixated on becoming strong, and so spending time in the tower with his mother was shorter than she may have liked, but he embraced her all the same, kneeling before her and hugging her as best he could.

"You are much more powerful than you were, how did this occur?" The Queen of the Vilebloods asked, curiosity behind her iron mask.

"The Hunters Dream sustains me mother, I have done a great many things on my trip home, Yharnam lies empty, the beasts in my wake dried husks, my hunger, satiated but my mind starved. There is a secret there that I am missing, and it irks me."

"Trivial issues for another time, you have returned with another. Step forward." Menma took his seat next to his mother, as Maria left the shadows and smirked at the slight surprise. "Cousin. It has been a... long time. The Hunter's drew you away with their 'less crude weaponry' we believe." Mused the Queen.

"Your son intrigues me, cousin. He is a... unique, man." Was all Maria offered in response.

The meeting was interesting, but not exactly noteworthy. The Bloody Hunter left the castle soon after returning, returning to the Dream and then hopping back to Yharnam Cathedral Ward to plunder the secrets of the area. He ended up finding an Umbilical Cord covered in eyes, it reeked of untapped, forbidden power.

So of course he ate it.

And the world seemed to be just that bit clearer because of it. The Pthumerian blooded man finally made his way into the Forbidden Woods, infested with snakes and other such monstrosities. After navigating through the madness that was that foul place he found two things, other-worldly beings, much like the Failures but with bulbous heads and glowing tendrils that protruded from them.

And the Shadows of Yharnam. A trio of hooded figures with swords, fire and a mace. He met these creatures with tides of stores blood, the power of his ancestors mingling with the sheer amount of blood he'd stored up in his body, he'd essentially become a walking body of skin and blood, he found this out when his arm was cut off and just collapsed into a puddle before another one grew in its place.

There was shenanigans afoot here.

He used the blood he'd spilt to create bloody spears that tore through the Shadows like a sword through paper. The Shadows fell shortly thereafter and he made his way to the centre of forbidden knowledge, Byrgenwerth.

The old master, Willem, still remained alive. If only just, sitting on his rocking chair and staring out into the moonlight glazed lake, a student also remained, but she wouldn't speak with him. So he ate drained her, he climbed up the tower of Byrgenwerth and found an Empty Phantasm Shell...

Yes he ate it, and yes the Arcane slime was delicious. No he didn't want to talk about it.

He followed Willem's gaze and found a small tear above the lake, like a waver within the air itself. So the Hunter dove into it, like any sensible person would. He was met with a creature, Rom the Vacuous Spider. Rom was quite cute if you ignored the rounded mouth on the front of her stone-like head. He sat on the river and engaged in a silent stare off with the small Great One, this creature was evidence that there was some otherworldly power at work, besides the weirdo's in the woods.

So, he set Rom on fire and proceeded to rip her apart. And ate her blood.

She had it coming. He just knew she did.

With each kill, he felt his insight into the unknown expand, this was both good and bad. He loved the new knowledge but some of it was rather extreme, mostly when a Pthumerian woman with red running down the front of her beautiful dress appeared, he wiped the grey blood off his lips and went to her side, placing a hand on her back as she began weeping, taking on of her hands as she leant into him he saw red.

The red moon fell and a baby began to cry. This both confused, and concerned him.

If the notes in Bygernwerth were anything to go by, the Great Ones had a thing for taking babies, and tentacles were usually involved.

He felt his body being forced away from the area, like being pushed back into the dream but instead of awakening there he found himself before a large stone door, that was open, and a great creature looming over it, an Amygdala, fuckers.

So he shot it repeatedly in the head until it fell onto the ground, then he tore its head off and crushed it into past by turning the blood in its body into razor blades and carving it like a roast dinner.

Echoes galore.

Yahar'gul was a horrifying place.

Bodies bonded to the walls, like the rapid ash-casting of Pompeii during the eruption of a volcano, but worse because he was seeing it, and it was gross.

The One Reborn, possibly one of the more disgusting things he'd killed by that point, but, since it was bathed in its own blood, it was rather simple to make all that blood turn to stone, trapping the creature for a few precious moments, the Bloody Hunter drew on his own stores and created a large fist of red to strike down the flesh-amalgamation. Shards of red rock and oozing grinded chunks of flesh littered the arena, thankfully a helpful Lamp appeared, but he only turned the light on, instead he pushed further in, curiosity gripping his mind as he touched the corpse of a cage-headed man.

The Nightmare of Mensis was quite the dramatic scene change. But like the Nightmare before it, he found it easily surmountable. Mikolash was speaking of Kos, the Great One that rested in the sea, the dead mother of the Orphan, oddly enough she bore a human woman's face, a rather beautiful creature, if only she was still up and kicking.

Or sliding, since she didn't have legs.

Anyway, back on topic.

Mikolash kept trying to run away, but the Hunter didn't like it when they ran, he didn't want them to die tired after all, so being the considerate, noble gentleman he was. He trapped the man in a cage of blood, tore the cage from his shoulders, incidentally the head came with it, and drained him dry. And just like that he felt another great flood of insightful glimpses into the otherrealm.

He stayed for a while, just sitting and reflecting on it all, before ascending higher into the nightmare, higher and higher he went, there were dogs with crow heads and crows with dog heads, pigs with a larger number of eyes than his body count had corpses, more Shadows, a woman with a particularly sinister bell, and finally the Pthumerian woman again, this time looking up to the moon, and in turn the loft above.

So he went on up, he saw a baby carriage over the other side of a small arena, crossing towards it he ended up taking several reflexive steps back as a creature made of cloth, feathers and blades appeared.

And so he fought Mergo's Wet Nurse, a rather simple fight if you stay close behind it, and set it on fire.

Fire was fun.

So when she fell, he was left with the sounds of a crying baby, that slowly began to relax, giggle and finally, fade. The Bloody Hunter waited patiently for a few minutes, just gazing at the moon, before turning to the lamp that seemingly sprouted from the ground, he returned to the dream and was gifted with the sight of the Dream aflame. Doll looked rather nonchalant about it.

But he wasn't done just yet, the nagging sensation in his mind wouldn't leave him so he returned to where this little adventure began, the Clinic. A simple check-up indeed! He blew the doors in and marched up to the doctors room, he found a woman with a split open stomach, laying on the floor was another Umbilical Cord, eyes dotting it and all looking directly at him.

So he ate it, little shit shouldn't have been staring at him like that. And then he ate the one he got from the kindly Wet Nurse.

It was like having happy little serpents wriggle in his head, but he didn't mind, he liked company. So now that he was all done, and the nagging was gone, he returned to the dream proper. And was told to meet Gherman, but he couldn't let his sweet little Doll near this fire, so he took her to his mother and told her to wait for him to get back, she smiled sweetly as she always did when he left, and called him 'Good Hunter'.

He wasn't a Good Hunter, Good implied a lighter moral compass than his own, he was a naughtly little Hunter, a bloodsoaked, drunk on power and knowledge Hunter.

But that was a mouthful, so Bloody it was.

"You've done well, child. The Night is almost over, now... I will show you mercy, you will die. Forget the dream. And awake under the morning sun. You will be freed, from this terrible Hunter's Dream." The old man lamented, but the Bloody Hunter did not want to die. So he placed a shoulder on the old man's head, lowered his own, but his tongue and spat poisonous blood in his eyes, Gherman screamed and cried until the blood dribbled into his mouth and muted him, it's acidic burning making smoke rise from the boiling flesh, the Hunter took his badge, clipped it onto his own growing collection, and stepped back, waiting for the man to die, lifting his mask up as he did.

But it would not end here, no.

The Bloody Hunter was greeted with the sight, of a Great One, that fell from the moon in the dream, and landed on the field of white lilies, the Presence of this creature was palpable, the Hunter felt his heart thunder, slowly, in his chest a slit opened in his forehead, a third, golden eyes opening in the peeled flesh, the Hunter felt his body shake and quake as the Presence came closer, but he would not die, for he did not want to.

He ripped and rended, hewed and harried until the Great One lay dead before him consumption seemed only fitting, until it was nothing, not a scrap of blood or flesh remain.

But the Child of Bood, he was locked away. Into the Dream, his body of blood was the vessel for his rebirth, now but a mewling babe of future greatness, the Bloody Hunter, Child of Blood.

Became a Great One.

The Human.

The Vile Blood.

The Hunger.

The Beast.

The Endless, Crimson Tide.

The Devourer of Life Essence.

Formless Given Form, Oedon would be jealous.

Menma, the Great Bloodied One.

 **End.**

 **Tell me what you think, we'll break more into the Hellsing Crossover later, but for now be patient my lovelies.**

 _ **Raxychaz!**_


	2. Chapter 2

**And so we return.**

 **Shadow Of God: That's the plan stan.**

 **Perverted Demon: Because you know you love it you dirty creature you.**

 **codduss: The idea is to not have him be much of a douche, more like a wild beast or ignorant whimsy prone youth.**

 **Hybrid Genesis: Anything is possible ;)**

 **Colshan: Hold your bloody horses, I'm getting there.**

 **NotSoSlimSh4dy: Blue Penis Mushroom Thingy was possibly the best thing I've seen all day. But don't worry more on them here.**

 **LordGhostStriker: Bloodbro's for the most part, I don't see them fighting (after this chapter anyway before definitely), as to which one I'm using, a bit from all of them.**

" _Oh Great Father of Blood, hear my prayers and wishes, for I am weak but wish to be strong, my father is ill, my mother is gone and my uncle is mad with grief. I cannot help them, but I beseech you, please Great Father, please help me._ " Children were the most common to pray for assistance, the 'Great Father' looked after them most, the adults were both warmed and envious, the innocence of children was looked upon favorably by the Great Father.

The child heard a soft _clink_ noise, a vial filled with red fluid a small note with incoherent writings marked it as a gift from the Great Father his medicinal blood could cure his father. The boy cried tears of joy, he prayed in thanks, he told the Great Father he would come every day to thank him more.

And so the boy did, his name was Richard, his father Alphonse listened as the boy prayed to a higher power, as told by the oldest man in the village and his prayers were answered, Richard brought Alphonse before the small shrine in the old man's hut, a macabre figurine of a horned, winged creature with grey skin, the figurine was seated with crossed legs and hands outstretched, palms upwards as though offering something.

Alphonse humoured the boy, for if this creature was as good hearted as his son told him he owed it thanks.

" _Oh Great Father of Blood, hear my prayers. I wish to thank you, for you saved my life, and that of my boys. My brother has been pulled from his despair by my speedy recovery, and I'm told I have you to thank. I may not comprehend it, but you saved me. Fortune to you, Great Father, amen._ "

A simple folding of paper was heard, from the figurines outstretched hands Alphonse took the page and read it, it was all gibberish save a pair of common, English words 'You're Welcome'.

They say converts are the truest believers, and in this case it was certainly true. Almost overnight Alphonse went from a godless man to spreading the word about the Great Father around the village, people were reasonably skeptical, but simple prayers, speaking of their desired proof gave them all the convincing they needed.

They renamed the village Great Father's Rest, a small chapel was built in his honor, the old man, Estebahn, died in his sleep whilst living under its roof, a shadowy figure, literally made of shadows, came to the funeral and assisted with burying him, a second figure raised next to the shadow, this one was grey in nature, the pair walked off, the shadow guiding the grey off before the burst into the air, and went with the winds.

The Shadow was dubbed 'Brother Death' as he appeared whenever anyone in the village died, and would guide them off to the Great Father's side. Great Father's rest was but one village influenced by the kind God, neighbouring villages heard of the saintly being and would make pilgrimages, word slowly began to spread further and further, soon the influence blanketed a small chunk of England.

Small enclaves outside of this area, committed to the 'Bloody Father' popped up periodically through the years, the calls of the desperate and the downtrodden reaching his ears. The Great Ones were sympathetic in nature, and so he would answer, the Bloodied One would sometimes send a projection to answer the call, and so their strife would end.

Such was the way of things for many, many years.

That was until a small group of his worshipers were cut down like dogs, their final cries for their savior was but a whisper, but He came, for they were His children, His flock.

"Oh Great One, please. Avenge, us... your children were too weak to do so ourselves. Forgive us O lord." Sputtered out one of the priests, tears pooling in his eyes as he gazed upon the shrine in their homely little chapel in the hills, they had never harmed another person, they lived in a farming village. What cruel world would push these fiends upon them? Brother Death guide them all.

The Vatican zealots would regret looking upon the visage of the Great One, their mind unable to comprehend the creature before them. Ashen skin pulled tight against a muscular humanoid frame, a face bereft of features, save the mouth, across the shoulders was a thick mane of silver-grey fur with short barbs hiding within, like sharp shards of bone. Horns atop his head curved like a devil's, that made the Vatican papists gasp. A quartet of torn up wings rose from the creatures back, bat-like in nature. Long, clawed fingers on its hands. Many whip-like tendrils sprouted from its tailbone like a Lovecraftian whip, cloven hooves made them all more confident in their assumptions with was a satanist cult.

All in all, a beast that put the fear of their god into them.

The Bloodied One released a low, course hissing noise, and feasted. Their bodies lay drained, purged of their fools blood, husks remained for He would have it no other way. Burned and charred they were, He buried his followers, some children.

The smallest child was a young boy named Michael, a lovely child who often prayed to him, even sometimes to simply ask him how he was. Now that sweet child would be lost to this world, a true shame in His eyes.

The Great One mourned the loss of His flock, and sat before his shrine for what felt like hours.

The Great Bloodied One desired his family, he wished away from the dream, and these kindly people had given him this.

To Cainhurst he returned, Yharnam was no more, replaced by some odd place called 'London'. The Bloodied one cared not for it, he would miss the simplistic city, and its delicious dwellers but he knew it would not return, and longing would not bring it back.

The Bloodied one found his home though, his castle. The outside may have changed but the top had not, where his beloved mother sat, his dearest Maria, and his sweetest Doll. The first to see him was Maria, she had not aged a day, but she was on guard, fiercely so.

What would a Great One be without their own version of Shapeshifting, they could not commune with their Flocks if they sent them all mad with their visages, he returned to his old form, the young man, pale skin and pale hair, bright, molten golden eyes and slight, pointed ears. A maw filled with razor sharp teeth and the noblest of stances. The only major difference was the fur lining across his collar, and the wrapped up form of the Moonlight Greatsword.

"This one has been freed. Of the dream, Maria... I am pleased to see you once more." Greeted the Bloodied One awkwardly centuries of one sided conversations stunting his social graces somewhat, Maria smiled before embracing him, short their time was before and this she regretted. Their journeys together were mostly quiet but she respected this young man, he was her kin. Menma accepted her touch, he was slightly taller than her now, a 6' 5" to her 6' 3".

"Your Doll and your Mother have missed you dearly, come." Instructed the older woman, she pulled him into the throne room propper. The sight of his mother, unwavering in her appearance, was being served tea by the doll, her Iron Mask gone but not forgotten as it lay by her side. His mother's blue eyes found his and she did a rather unladylike double take. Throwing her cup to the side, making the Doll's eyes widen in shock until she followed the woman's gaze, the Queen stood and took her child into her arms.

"Mother." Greeted the Great One, warm was his voice, and loving was the smile he wore. He picked the smaller being up in his arms and held her up, her legs dangling just a few inches away from the ground, the Bloodied pressed his lips to her cheek and whispered, "This one is happy to see you once more."

"We too, feel overwhelming joy at your return, child." Responded the woman softly, gripping him tightly, as though she had gone mad and would lose him once more. "My dear, dear child." Shoulders almost shaking as the return of her child rocked her world.

"Welcome home, Good Hunter." Said the Doll, a silver tear forming on her cheek. He set his mother back onto her throne, patting her shoulders before turning to the Doll. Taking her hands into his he smiled brightly, something she mimicked, and accepted his kiss.

He was ever so fond of his lovely Doll.

"This one has found his worth, in the waking world." Little inside joke there. Releasing their held hands he turned to view them all, "I have returned through the loyal wishes of those who saw me as their god. It is my duty to avenge them."

"Your subjects were slain?" Annalise asked curiously.

"Indeed. Butchered by a group of animals who claimed to fight in the name of 'God'. Their blood was foul." He grimaced and tried to wipe their taste away with saliva, it wasn't exactly working. Doll offered him tea, that worked much better.

"So we are to hunt once more?"

 **London; England.**

Maria and Menma walked the streets, the insightful eyes of the Great One looking around like an inquisitive child, shades of humans past strode the town, echoes and memories filled these streets, some going far back as Yharnam itself. The images of Old Ones past drifted in and out of this city.

The people were curious at the sight of both himself and Maria, they were not done up in lavish coats, with nifty little trinkets to adorn themselves, simple cloth was what most wore, a few slatternly women forgoing even that for what appeared to be netting over their legs and shoes with large heels. This was all very confusing, he already missed dear Alphonse and the sleepy village where he used to reside.

He paused for a moment, feeling eyes on him, molten gold met wine red for a fleeting second, he was being followed. Something very old was looking over him, older than he at least. But the creature disappeared, or at least its physical presence did. The creature echoed all across the city, like a giant, voracious beast.

Much like himself actually.

This creatures presence was palpable, the air was stained with it, now that he took notice of it, tasted it on the tip of his tongue, the Great One was interested.

He trailed the strongest line of the sensation until he ended up leaving the major section of the city and finding a large building, a mansion of sorts. But guards at the gate barred his way, wielding firearms, but no main hand weaponry? Foolish. Without a propper blade how would they hunt properly? These Hunters were strange.

"Private property sir. You and your missus'll have to leave." Informed one of the Guards, the Great One looked at the man, a young lad with short brown hair, wearing a uniform with a shield emblazoned on it.

"Yes, of course... does this place hold a sleeping Great One, young man? The presence drenches the city, this one cannot help but notice its source." The man looked like he swallowed a lemon whilst his comrade was speaking into some small black object hung on his jacket.

"Thomas, Miss Integra just got news of him from the big fella. Told us to let 'im through." Thomas bit his lip and nodded, opening the gate, it did so on its own, this shocked the Great One, such mechanism surely required a lever of some kind! And yet this boy pressed a button on an even _smaller_ black box-like object on his belt, and it opened!

Marvelous!

"On your way in, Sir. You'll be told where to meet your mark." Menma smiled and offered his hand, the young man took it, "Have a good one, Sir."

"Fortune to you, young Thomas." He bid the boys a good day and continued, Maria smiling at this.

"You've softened considerably." She commented.

"The villagers were such sweet, lovely people. I couldn't help but be moved by them, I realized, in my years of confinement in the dream with only my Idol to communicate that this one may have earned his power but I did so with needless bloodshed, I gained very little from killing those who meant me no harm. I will endeavor to keep to a much gentler path." Informed the Great One, he had grown to love those villagers, and he would find the arm that held those blades and he would break it. But he would not kill the small, simple humans on his way, it achieved very little.

"So no more hunting?" Questioned Maria, curiously.

"Oh certainly, this one will hunt and kill with his dearest Maria, but he finds harming the small people meaningless, they are frail and gentle, they needn't be harmed." Menma smiled at the revelation, Maria's cold lips formed one of her own at his almost childlike kindness, perhaps the transformation had done this to him, or those simple villagers really did do a number on his previously out of control bloodlust.

"We are our own master now, this one can show the small people kindness, and they will reward it with more. Whether to this one directly or to his subjects, I am happy."

"We simply must grind your speech pattern down to a singular, darling. Switching between third and first person will undoubtably confuse many." Maria mused, patting his back when a small frown grew on his face, he adjusted his hat.

"This one apologizes, I realize it is confusing. But he is still trying to return to communing through words, instead of feelings and linked minds."

"No apologies needed, my sweet. You are a unique gift I am happy to have received, I merely speak on behalf of others who would not understand your reasoning so simply. Times have changed greatly in your absence."

The doors to the mansion opened as they approached, Menma and Maria were given sight to an aging man with black hair tied in a ponytail, sporting a rather fine outfit, he seemed to be a butler if his stance and mannerisms were anything to go by.

"Welcome, you'll have to forgive me, I fear I do not know your names. I am Walter C. Dornez, butler to the Hellsing Family. I welcome you on behalf of Miss Integra." Greeted the man, Walter a fine name.

"This one is called Menma, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Walter." Greeted the Great one, mirroring the bow the man had given.

"I am Maria Cainhurst, lovely to meet you, Sir." The two Pthumerian blooded being towered over the English gentleman, but he didn't seem phased by it.

"If you'll follow me I'll bring you to Miss Integra."

 **Integra's Office, (More Recently, Abraham's Office)**

The young Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing sat at the desk of her recently deceased father and wielded a small frown. She was a barely into her teens and already she was quite miffed with how things had turned out, her Uncle had gone batty and tried to kill her, and she may very well have died were it not for stumbling across Alucard, and now said Ancient Vampire tells her there is another being of extreme presence within London City.

And apparently it walked right to their gates and asked after him.

Perhaps this is why her father took up smoking.

Integra sighed, but straightened when she heard footsteps, the doors opened, first Walter, ever loyal and faithful Walter, and he led in a rather strange pair.

The man was tall, elegant looking and held a calm, warm air about him. A small smile on his face. His skin was pale, deathly so, just like his companion, but his eyes were like molten gold, hot and glowing. His hair was white and shaggy, like a pale mane. He wore a grey coat with a furred collar, a pair of leather gloves, on with clawed fingers and the other with light plating over the palm and knuckles. His boots were rather ornately made, leather buckles and all. All in all he was a handsome man, if a bit tall.

His companion was a woman who too, had great beauty. And she like him was tall and pale, with equally fair hair, but her eyes were a soft, ocean blue. She wore a coat with a ruffled neckerchief with a blue-green stone necklace, encased in a gold binding on an equally stunning chain. Her clothes looked to be right out of the old Vampire Hunter stories, elegant and practical. She didn't have such a gentle air about her, but more protective.

Menma saw a young lady, she was rather cute. A white dress shirt and black, long skirt. Tan skin and brilliantly blue eyes, lovely long blonde hair that was straight, silky and quite smooth looking. She had authority but was new to having true power, this was obvious by the way she held herself, she was overcompensating in her stance, too much puffing out her chest and too tense.

"Miss Integra, the guests _he_ spoke of." Informed Walter he was about to introduce them until Menma strode across the room and took Integra's hand, shaking it, much to her slight shock.

"This one is very happy to meet you, I am Menma."

"So you're the presence I felt... hmmm a bit young to be holding all that power in you." Integra heard the voice of her bodyguard, her servant. And the most Powerful vampire to ever walk the earth, Alucard.

Donned in his usual red coat and wide brimmed hat, the fair skinned, black haired man melted out of the wall. Menma tasted the air, his pupils dilating for a moment as he left Integra's hand and approached the Old One.

"You are like me... but you are not like this one. He is confused." Murmured the taller being with confusion etched onto his face, moving to touch the brim of his hat so he could see Alucard's face easier the Vampire chuckled in amusement.

"My, my. If it isn't the only active Eldritch God, how curious. What _did_ happen to the others I wonder?" Alucard's old eyes pierced the veil of this creatures guise, seeing it for what it really was. His own insight into the unknown coming into play once more, the creature was eyeless yet saw all before him, and all those he touched at once.

"This one happened, when he was young, and hungry. He ate them, Rom was also young but she was in his way, her blood joined his and so too did her power, Mergo was still small and so fled into the beyond once more, Ebrietas fled into the Chalices so we had to delve into them to find her. We had much time to spare when the flock was sleeping." He spoke cryptically, Menma's own eyes breaking through the illusion around this giant mass of blood, gore and death. This endless tide of regret and misery.

"This one has seen your presence and wishes to tell you he does not want to harm the small-people, they are not the ilk he seeks. I hunt the Vatican, for they have killed my flock unjustly." Alucard grinned widely, shark-like teeth coming to bear, Menma mirrored this to show his own, "This one and you have similar teeth, we must be friends."

"Oh you are just a treat." The Vampire chuckled.

Integra felt her blood run cold when he said Vatican. "Could you explain this to me... Menma, why are you hunting the Vatican?"

Menma's glowing eyes shot back over to the small-person and his smile returned to its usual warmth, "This one lost his precious flock, they were killed because he helped them with his blood, and his favours. The Vatican killed the kind people like animals, so He will hunt them, and eat them. For that is just." Integra sighed and rubbed her forehead.

"Walter could you put some tea, on I feel like we're going to be here a while."

"Of course, ma'am." The butler bowed at the hip and left.

Maria found it all very amusing.

"This one only wishes to find the people who took his people away from him, do you know where to find them?" He asked, excitement at the prospect of progress in his hunt.

"First things first, I'd like to know the details, the how's and why's." Alucard almost didn't want to know, he had his history and this creature was at least a worthy rival, if a bit young, this story would undoubtedly end poorly.

"This one does not wish to harm the little miss with insight into the dark truth, he will only tell if it she is one hundred percent certain she wishes to hear it." Integra idly noted he seemed to be falling into a more third person focused string of speaking, oddly mixed mess that it was before, but she had to know if she had a rogue element running about, it would be her head.

"I am sure, tell me everything."

"Strap yourself in, little one." Suggested Maria as the Great One took a seat in the air, to them, to Alucard he was on his multiple tails.

 _ **End.**_

 **Yeah, kind of playing with the whole 'Great Ones are pretty nice' thing to see how I write mostly pleasant characters. Plus the idea of a wonderstruck Great One with modern technology, or at least modern during Integra's youth, greatly amuses me.**

 _ **Raxychaz!**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Hybrid Genesis: Prepared to be surprised.**

 **Melennial: He wasn't trapped in the figurine so much as he was stuck in the dream, the changing and reforming of a new body messed with his perception a lot so he ended becoming the new focal point for the Hunter's Dream, and just hadn't figured out how to materialize outside, it was more of an accident brought on by anger than anything else.**

 **Parks98: Well he was more about killing something before it had a chance, and with the idea that Ghernam thought he was in any position to kill him, Menma cut off that before it could really become more than a threat.**

 **Thank you to all who reviewed, this one may be a little shorter as I am posting it at 3am, but I didn't wanna sleep until it was done.**

 **Start!**

"And then this one came to London, and was spotted by Alucard. This one was confused at first but wanted to see what had this presence." Concluded The Great One, sipping at the tea, "This one loves the tea, Walter. What kind is it?" He asked curiously.

"Simple earl grey, unfortunately we don't have anything more extravagant, but I'm pleased you like it, Sir." Walter smiled, Menma liked this smile, he liked Walter too, he was a nice man.

"Would you like some blood? It can revitalize your body if you so desire." Offered the creature with a tilted head and risen brow. Integra's eyebrows shot into her hairline whilst Alucard chuckled.

"I am honoured you would offer me such, but I am content to age like any English gentleman." Even when he was saying no he was so nice! Menma grinned brightly but nodded all the same.

"I'd prefer if you didn't offer my butler blood that could lead to ruin, if you don't mind." Integra cut in, with a narrowed gaze.

"Of course, this one has gotten so used to giving it as a reward for kindness that it slipped his mind, forgive this one little miss, he meant no offence." He tilted his head down for a moment, the annoyance on her face flashed for a moment, apparently resenting the fact she was by far the youngest in the room but kept it to herself.

"Either way, that is this one's tale, would you be willing to tell him where to find those he hunts?" His smiled died slightly, and his lips pulled into a snarl, Integra's back straightened.

"I can't knowingly unleash you onto the Vatican, the fallout from it would be disastrous. And Hellsing would be marked for death for instigating a war." His snarl turned into a frown, "The best I can suggest would be to enlist in the organization, and whenever we have Vatican members on our soil, you can kill them. We could always spin it so that they attacked you first, being what you are." Alucard hid his smile beneath the brim of his hat, how devious of his little master. The naïeve creature would agree of course, but he doubted anything above his own word would keep it leashed.

"This one is conflicted on this decision. He sees pros and cons to this, he knows little of the outside world, so working with others would be good, but he is not a pet." He tilted his head towards Alucard, "He is."

The Vampire chuckled darkly, but kept silent as the Bloodied One continued, "So this one is at a crossroads, may he stay a few days, and see what it is like to work with the Hellsingers?" Integra smiled at that, visibly relaxing.

"Of course, I understand the offer is very out of left field, we'd be happy to have you, Menma. Would you care to join me for lunch?"

"Maria?" He asked, the silent woman beside him, Maria shrugged, not minding whatsoever.

"I see no reason to not know your new friends, my dear." Integra felt the need to guard her back when this woman spoke, it made the hairs on her neck stand on end.

"Then this one would be delighted." Acquiessed the Great One.

 **Later**

Nighttime had come, Maria had returned to Cainhurst after a lamp was installed within the gardens of the manor, Menma had been invited with Alucard to do a simple little patrol, to familiarize his fellow monster with the city.

"This one is confused, why do the Hunters at the manor not use primary arms, surely side-arms are insufficient?" Menma queried, Alucard only chuckled and pulled a simple looking revolver from his coat and shot a tree with it, it ended up creating a large hole right through the centre.

"This one suspects you have invested in bloodtinge heavily." Amended the Great One, amused.

"Firearms have advanced considerably, the oddity would be your sword. Fine craftsmanship, but ineffective if your opponent can match your speed and keep you at a distance." Advised the Vampire.

"The Moonlight Greatsword is just sleeping at the moment, when this one pulls on the arcane power within, she can produce great arcs of light that can cut stone, he believes she is enough to deal with bullets. Another question, do you still use Quicksilver bullets?" Alucard shook his head and produced a bullet from his revolver, Menma rolled it around in his fingers and looked at it under the moonlight. "Curious, quite large for a simple bullet is it not?"

"The casing just houses the bullet, in the chamber the hammer strikes it, and sends the actual projectile on its way, the shell is left by the wayside. Only the tip is what fires." Informed the black haired creature, it was oddly refreshing to be around this eldritch monstrosity, he was pleasant enough.

Menma frowned and showed Alucard what he used, the Vampire's glove began to hiss the second he touched it and quickly returned it, "Quicksilver kills beasts, and stuns them long enough to inflict critical damage, this one apologizes greatly, he did not mean to harm you."

"Inconsequential wound, it just shocked me." Alucard raised his hand, healed as though it were never damaged to begin with. "That will be immensely useful in our line of work. Most of the time we end up running interference with the useless meat sacks that want to tear into the smaller meat sacks." Alucard informed.

"This one is... why do you look like this now?" He asked abruptly, stopping his stride and all. He was gazing upon the same creature, this was to be sure, but it had changed its shape to that of a young woman in all white, with an odd hat. Straight black hair, but those eyes remained the same.

"What?" He... she... it, asked with a grin on its face. "We both stick out like a sore thumb anyway, I figured at least this way they'll go for you first and I can see what you can do." Sound reasoning to some, Menma pondered on it for a moment before nodding.

"You caught this one off guard, that is a cute shape, he did not expect it." He commented with another smile, Alucard's grin grew.

"Well it's served me well in the past, nothing like a young woman to stir the hearts of those around. The sex was good too." She chuckled at his risen brow.

"You were taken by a man?" He was more curious about this than anything else, she noticed with a cheshire grin, "This one figured you too prideful for that."

"Who said _they_ took _me_?" She rebuked, he let out a mirth drenched chuckle, his whole form brightened when he laughed, this was curious to her, how was such a beast able to process the world around it with such rich emotion.

"You amuse this one greatly, would _you_ like some blood? You feast upon it, yes?" He offered his arm, Alucard smiled, taking her hat off as he rolled up his sleeve and slipped off his gloves, something that caught her off guard was the fact that she didn't see the beast, instead she saw a man. Was he able to build up the wall around his transformation so quickly?

"This one would be delighted." She mocked wryly, he only kept his smile on as he urged her on, she took hold of his hand and his forearm, licking his wrist and watching the veins tremble with anticipation, digging her fangs in she was met with pure euphoria.

And then she began looking into his memories.

This whole even worked twofold in her favour she got an impossibly delicious meal, and was able to confirm the information he'd given to them about his past. It was quite task as it required digging much further back than most humans she'd read, but it was not impossible. And if anything his blood seemed to be endless, her insightful eyes were able to drag her back to sense as she looked up into his molten gold, glittering with happiness as they usually seemed to be, before she sunk back in.

"This one is pleased he was able to give you such a feast." He said quietly, as she kept drinking from his wrist, it ended up with him leaning against a wall awkwardly keeping her steady with his invisible tail-tendrils, her eyes unfocused and distant.

Until abruptly she stopped drinking, instead just licking at the wound she'd created, long, soft licks that admittedly felt rather pleasant on his skin. That pointed tongue was giving him ideas.

And these were not child safe ideas.

Alucard licked off any excess from her lips and shuddered, thoroughly satiated. "That was magnificent. I could do that all night, but we have things to do." Placing her hat back on she saw vague hazes in the air move back behind her new (possible) partner and managed to banish the buzz that came with drinking from him.

Menma felt something tickle at his mind, he smiled brightly, "This one can hear the children speaking, they are near, come we must visit them!" He chimed, picking the smaller being up and taking off into the air, his form vanishing into the darkness like it was never there to begin with.

 **Elsewhere.**

In an attempt to tap into the greater powers, a middle aged man by the name of Lucian had gathered many foolish and hapless sheep, herding the foolish people into his coven he had them all begin to pray. Intoning a name they knew nothing of, and offering what they could not understand.

He on the other hand was preparing his augur, a slug-like creature that he would trap their collective minds, bodies and souls in to, and use the gathered macabre, arcane power to increase his own. It wasn't a particularly complex plan but it had taken many months to put all the pieces in place, the second he'd gotten wind of this 'Great Bloody Father' from a transient that was northbound, returning home apparently, he had told Lucian of the merciful great one and how if someone asked, he would give, only asking they do unto others the same kindness.

Lucian interpreted this in the way it was more than likely, originally, meant.

No great entity would just _give_ things to simple farmers for nothing but kindness, that would be ridiculous. No it was obviously getting something from their devotion. And was giving them simple scraps to appease them.

"Oh Great Bloody Father, harken unto me!" Intoned Lucian, as the channeling began. People began crying out as their bodies began to fail on them, the figurine began to rattle with each body it drew blood from, Lucian being the director for the moment, the offering in his augur would surely secure him something better.

A short minute and a half was all it took to clear out the entire warehouse, the cultists all dead and drained, the figurine would not cease its rattling, Lucian frowned this was not what he expected, it kept shaking and vibrating until it broke, shattering into dozens of fragmented pieces.

"This one is curious, why did you kill his children?" Asked a deathly cold voice, Lucian turned to see what slowly began to etch madness into his mind, it _was_ the figurine, but in a state of flesh and bone, a miscalculation on the ritual, it had to be! The demonic creature picked up the form of a small child, not more than a few years old, it's face bare for all but its mouth but that frown stopped his heart.

"Small Amalia, and her mother Beatrice. This one does not understand why would you use them in such a manner, but punishment will be given, for this is unforgivable." The beast suddenly appeared before Lucian, he scrambled back onto his altar, the blood that had gone into the figurine flowing across the floor like a river, circling both him and this twisted atrocity. Long fingers enclosed around his throat, and the creature lifted him up to 'eye' level. "This one will make sure you suffer, as they rest peacefully within his dream." 'Brother Death' appeared at the door of the chapel, the shadowy figure slowly making his way to the nearest body as Lucian felt unimaginable pain.

The creature had sliced right through his left arm, at the wrist, but no blood spilt, only pain. The it began driving its claws through ever major artery on his body, but not once did red stain his body, the creature then held him above his own altar, the augur slowly trying to wriggle its way off, Menma grabbed the simple little creature before slamming the filthy cretin upon his own coffin, placing the augur onto his chest he commanded the creature be still.

It obeyed as this was its prerogative.

Wisps of blue formed around the Great Ones fingers before he dug a claw into Lucian's forearms, blue stakes formed in place of the fingers to hold him down, the augur became the anchor for the arcane power. "You will remain here, dying a thousand deaths in an endless nightmare as the augur feasts upon your flesh until it is plump and fat. Then, when you are skinless, bloodied and rotten, you will revive, and it will start again. This one will enjoy the echoing screams of your torment in his dream, nothing will save you." Lucian would have protested but the slug climbed into his mouth, his screams muffled and his nightmare beginning.

Menma began assisting the Shadow of Grief with its task, Alucard watching on silent as a stone. The pair of entities buried these children of his, these naieve, trusting children. He committed them all to segments of the dream, they would live with all the others who had died under his care, gentle Estebahn would care for them in his stead.

Grey shades rose from the graves, the Shadow guiding them all to the Realm of Dreams. He watched with sadness, his shell reforming and the walls on the transformation rising rapidly, taking off his hat had placed it on his chest and looked sadly upon the graves once more.

"I was under the impression you controlled the idols, is this not the case?" Alucard asked curiously.

"This one is able to see the children through the figurines, this one must have been enchanted to act in the way it did, he does not make them to drink, only to watch." Informed the eldritch creature as he shook his head, placing his hat back on he turned to the smaller creature, "This one would like to work with the Hellsingers, it is his responsibility to prevent more of this from happening, whether due to him or otherwise." He affirmed his statement, more to himself than anyone else, with a nod.

"Oh that's good, you taste too delicious to let you just walk out of my grasp." The chuckle and the grin would make some squirm, he was rather flattered, "Come on then, there's still more of the city to see and I doubt this will be the only interesting thing we'll find tonight, something's on the air. It's really quite bothersome."

"Perhaps it is the smell of waste, I have found this city to have much of it." Suggested Menma.

"Oh look at you, speaking like one of the regular bunch, come now no need to pretend around me, I've drank from you, that practically makes us best friendly acquaintances." She said wryly, rubbing up to him like an eager kitten.

"This one is concerned with your motives." Was all he said in response to that, and all he got was another grin.

 **Hope you enjoed it my lovelies, have a great day :D.**

 _ **Raxychaz!**_


	4. Chapter 4

**So I see a lot of RWBY crossovers in my feed, mostly to how fucking popular that damned thing is and every time I think of something for it 'That's an idea maybe I should write something.' My mind then stalls and I am reminded of the image of Ruby getting gaped on Rule 34 like a fucking champ and remember that's my only interest in RWBY. So filthy, sex laden smut is all I can ever really think when it comes to that.**

 **There was no point to this tangent, I just felt like giving someone a chuckle.**

 **Parks98: It all depends on the situation really.**

 **Shadow Of God: Mostly due to the fact the** _ **entire**_ **Vatican hasn't vexed him, and what he's actually looking for is the inquisitorial branch of the Catholic church, he could only read so far into their minds while he was ripping them limb from limb so 'vatican' is all he got.**

 **Hybrid Genesis: Senpai will always notice you sweetums.**

 **Milennial: I mostly will end up giving random people names to save me having to write 'the man did this' or 'the evil dickwanker said that'.**

 **LordGhostStriker: Because kinky is best love.**

 **Thank you my lovely cherubs once more for putting your words into my eyes, I always love it. It tingles me in all the right ways, keep it up! Also just to add, I will be updating 'Trainer For Hire' soon, I just wanna get a few chappies on this one first.**

 **Start! (One and a Half Months Later)**

Traces of green light glided through the air, followed by lines of crimson liquid that stayed aloft as though frozen, the sounds of flesh being pierced rang through to all that could hear, howls of pain and screeches of torment filled the ears of the Hellsing soldiers, men garbed in heavy flack jackets with rifles in their hands, the youngest of the was shaking at the sounds of vicious battle.

These men were put under the 'Bloody Father' for two particular reasons. The first being they accepted his blood, whether knowingly or otherwise and therefore were suited to working with him as he was able to reduce mortality rates to nothing, without their consent he would not heal them as it required his blood to do so, but with these men already having had some it was a moot point. And the second was to essentially be watchers, making sure he didn't do anything too rash or expose the organization to public at large.

Mathias Grey, was the squad leader, a middle aged man with slightly greying blonde hair and sea-green eyes, he had fair skin and a scar just under his right eye. He had made the 'Father' laugh and was offered a small red vial for his kindness, when questioned what it was the Father said that it was a gift for him to keep his strength up, when pressed He confessed it was his blood. Mathias at first, was repulsed by the idea, but the smell was... intoxicating, he could happily he felt better because of it, able to run around with his son, Anthony until they were both red in the face and exhausted. His age didn't feel like such a burden anymore.

And all the Father asked was that he do unto others as he had done unto Him. Making them smile. Skeptical was a good way to put it, but the creature really didn't want anything else.

The others either took the blood or were drawn to the Great One because of one, his presence managed to enchant them to such a point where they felt better around him in general, and two because they wanted to be at their best at all times, no matter what.

"Mathias." Called a voice, the greying blonde entered the room, given sight to diced up corpses, and a blood soaked man in a grey, furred coat. His hat was sitting next to him. This entire catacomb had become a hive for Necromancers to frequent. In a mixture of dark rituals and arcane magic a coven of witches had managed to raise almost every corpse in the London cemetery. The gravekeeper had put in the call to the authorities that some people had been squatting in the catacombs and in turn the police sent a message up to Hellsing.

In turn, Menma and the Blood Hunters were sent in.

 _Did you like that name? This one is quite proud of it._

"Yessir?" Asked the Captain, adjusting his gas mask as it began to stick to his sweaty skin.

"Did you bring a clean rag? This one has misplaced his." Mathias almost smiled in amusement at the slightly forgetful nature of the Father, He was a little absent at times due to the fact He was constantly tending to His idols up north, it was a little joke within the squadron to always bring a clean rag, just in case He forgot His.

"Always do sir, here." Pulling a white length of cloth from his pocket he handed it to the Great One, who smiled widely as he accepted it, and began wiping the rotten blood from the 'sleeping' form of the Moonlight Greatsword, a majestic weapon to be sure. Beautiful as it was deadly.

A hissing noise drew Mathias' attention, apparently one of the Witches, or half a witch depending on how you looked at it, was clinging to life. The captain shot the wench in the head, her skull being popped open like a macabre watermelon.

"This one will compensate you for you kindness, Mathias. Do you still enjoy the little sweet rolls from the bakery?" Now Mathias did crack a smirk, the creature was like a child sometimes, in a good way mind you, treats were just as likely as blood as a gift.

"Very much so, sir. Area clear, shall we do another sweep of the area?" He already planned to do so, but it wasn't in his job description to order around a clearly superior being, the day he got that privilege was the day he got a damn good raise.

"This one thinks that is a fine idea, Mathias. Have young Theodore and Markus do so, the child requires a guiding hand, he still shakes far too much. This one worries if he does not kick this habit, he will be harmed." Ah, Theodore. The newbie. He'd just joined a few weeks ago and still had the jitters when it came to the more gore filled sections of the job. Apparently he was a pencil pusher before this.

"Make sure they have their guides." Again, another thing that was secluded to this particular squad, white little creatures with odd shaped faces and bright eyes the 'Little Ones' as the Great Ones maid called them or, 'The Smallest Children' as He called them. Apparently only those who have imbibed can see them, they worked perfectly as guides, scouts and eyes that weren't able to be seen.

"I'll double check they do, Sir." With a quick salute Mathias went back to the squad of five to issue the orders as Menma continued cleaning the blackened blood off his silver coloured sword, he'd been with the Hellsingers for about two months now, he'd earned a good amount of trust and freedom from little miss Integra, giving her a figurine to contact him should she require his presence, and with the Lamp in the gardens he was on constant standby to assist the organization at a moments notice.

With Alucard's assurance that he was 'Too soft to be any real threat to us if we don't harm him' he was given command of a few willing men. Mathias, Rodger, Pamela, Gerard and finally Theodore. Rodger was a youthful man with a rather jaded way of looking at the world, Menma strived to get at least one smile out of the man a day, so far it had been working a good 70%. And some days Rodge' was just being stubborn.

'Pammy' was the only female member but she was so darling, more of a mother to them than anything. If your mother was capable of wielding a high powered firearm with dead on aim and _also_ able to kill almost anyone with a knife before they would blink twice. Pamela was quite the asset in that capacity.

Gerard was a German immigrant who blew into London after the war, the oldest member of the group but also the only one who knew his way around explosives. Gerard was a just man, and could see both the right and wrong reasoning for many things.

Theodore was the youngling, Integra put the boy under Him because she needs all those of Hellsing to be willing to do the dirty work, they were the human Queen's shadowy hands to wipe away the foul underbelly. So she assigned the boy to him, 'You look like someone who's dealt with scared children more than most'. This is true, many children came before his idols to pray away their fears.

Menma had no gripes with this as he cared for most of his children in the same way, another one would matter little in the grand scheme of it all. He finished cleaning his blade and began wrapping it back up, using the last remnants of the coverings as a sling, grabbing his hat he slid the sword over his shoulder and onto his back before placing it back on.

When he left the room he was greeted by the Little Ones, they were waving happily, he knelt down and pat their heads before gesturing in the direction the others went, they began leading the way towards them.

The final sweep was thorough, but nothing was left, the entire catacomb was clean, so they left and sealed it back up, "This one is going into town, please return her to my room, Mathias." He requested, taking the sword off his back and placing it into the back seat of the car they'd used to get here, Mathias and the others snapped of a salute, "You have all done very well, Theodore you needn't fear the unknown this one is always there to make sure you come home." Assured the Great One as he pat the boys head with a smile, before walking off into town.

"Yeah Theo, jitters'll just impare your aim." Added Rodger, digging at the youngest man's fear with sarcasm, rolling a cigarette in his teeth and fishing out his lighter.

Theo frowned and punched him in the shoulder, "Sorry if I don't adjust to killing fuckin' zombies so quickly." Spat the young redhead, dark blue eyes stormy with a whirlwind of emotions.

"Lock it down until we're back at the manor, boys." Ordered Pamela with a sharp swat at their heads, the pair grumbled something unintelligible before they go into the back of the car, moving the priceless sword into the boot (trunk) of the car and slamming the doors shut, the black vehicle quickly making way towards the manor.

 **In Town**

Golden eyes jumped from shot to shop, the hustle and bustle of a busy London was always interesting to him. There was a small park not far from where he was, so he made a b-line towards it, phasing across the busy road and onto the other path, Menma refused to follow the instruction that he should hide what he was from Integra. He could only promise he would never link himself publically to Hellsing so their cover could remain, but he was a Great One, and he desired communion with the smaller beings, it was satisfying to feel their happiness.

Unlike his 'other self' shall we say? Where it all just went red. There was a secreted away section of his old self that he kept for obvious reasons, nothing like a split personality or anything, but he found it very easy to drag up his oldest memories and revel in the running rivers of red like he did when he was young and hot blooded.

He found a bench, a mother with a small one in her arms while the other children played, football if he wasn't mistaken. "Good morning, madam." He greeted with a smile, she looked quite tired so he was striving to say little beyond common courtesy would dictate unless she prompted him for more, he could appreciate not wanting to speak with people when one was tired and cranky.

"And to you, sir." His smile grew at her response, speaking with the blind children was a such a novel experience to be sure, much like when he first saw an Amygdala on the Oedon Chapel, terrifying. The babe in her arms stirring enough to sigh in her sleep, if the pink blanket was anything to go by.

Menma and the woman remained silent, as they watched the children, a small tussle broke out over whether a goal was scored or not, and Menma glanced at the woman, she sighed heavily and was about to go over to sort the dispute out, "This one is more than happy to assist, madam. Please enjoy your peace and quiet." Before she could respond the oddly dressed man was already off the bench and walking towards the small bunch of children.

"Children, what has caused this dispute?" He asked with a tilted head as he looked at the boys and girls.

"Martha says she scored a goal, but it hit the tree and bounced back out, so it doesn't count!" Snapped a boy, Menma.

"This one understands, little miss, little sir, where are the goals outlined?" He asked, looking between the little brown haired boy and the little black haired girl. Martha harumphed before walking over to the to where the goals were supposed to be, it was outlined with sticks, in a rectangle.

"I just kicked it too hard, if they were real goals the net would have caught them so it counts." Grumbled the little girl, Menma chuckled and pat her head, getting a huff in response.

"This one agrees with the little miss, little sir. Imagine if there was a net to catch the ball, the ball would not bounce off a tree, so it would not have bounced back out."

"Yeah but we _don't_ have a net so it doesn't matter what would have happened if we did." Refuted the boy, Menma nodded.

"This is true, but shall we rectify this?" Blue began to emit from his fingertips and dripped into the ground, arcane energy twisting the ground and forming a proper set of goal-posts, net and all. The children all gaped, calls of 'magic' and 'wizard' immediately breaking out.

"There we go, all fixed. Now you _do_ have a set of goals, little miss could you please do a repeat performance for us, little sir could you assume your position as goalkeeper?" He asked, the children didn't move instead just stared up at him with wonder."

Questions began flying, only for him to raise his hands to placate them, "Now now children, this one will tell you all about himself if little miss can score her goal." In a flash the pair were in their spots, Martha kicked the ball and the boy dived out of the way, letting the ball go in without an resistance, Menma grinned and chuckled at their little cheekiness.

He was glad he could make people see what he wanted them too, in fact he'd made the net out of a great mess of tentacles, the Little Ones make sure they keep the right shape. But the children didn't need to know that.

He sat down, cross legged, and gestured the children gather around, "This one is called the 'Bloody Father' by many of his children..." Like a priest giving a sermon he began to recount the 'founding' of his followers, the children almost having their minds collectively blown from his insightful speaking. The mother was oblivious as she only saw children playing quietly, with an adult supervising.

Perception was such a fun thing to play with.

The most receptive to his words were a nine year old girl with messy blonde hair and bright blue eyes, "Mr. Father, how come you can do magic though?" She asked, Menma eyes found hers and his smile made her feel a little light headed.

"This one is called a Great One, to his children he is their God, but to him, he is just a very powerful creature. Knowledge of the Great Ones can harm the people that hear it, little one. And he does not wish to hurt small children, you are all going to grow into fine young men and women and he thinks that the much darker side of his being best be kept off store shelves for a while, yes?" He said with a chuckle, "This one's magic though, is simple arcane molding. In simple terms it is and isn't magic, it would take a long time to explain properly." He let out another small laugh at her pouting frown, but pat her head and got another little smile for his effort.

Gawsh, children were just the cutest.

"How come it would hurt us, Mr. Menma?" Asked Martha, curious.

"It may cause you to see things differently than normal people, little miss. Humans do not usually like different. If you were within the village you would already know, as it is the norm there. Perhaps he should spread word around of himself more, then he could tell you all about it?" He contemplated, he liked this idea. And giggled with excitement at the prospect.

"This one has a marvelous idea, children. Would you like to help him get word around? There are little treats and surprises as incentive." The mere thought of more knowledge for these curious minds was _more_ than enough incentive, but treats and maybe presents on top of that? Uhh, duh! YES!

So what he did was, he gave them all smaller version of his figurines, and told them to give one to someone who might need help. Simple things like medicine, or companionship, or happiness. He told them that the first one to help him help someone was the one to get the best prize.

The little blonde girl gasped when she touched the idol and immediately thanked him for the present, as it was the most unique thing she'd ever received as a gift, and raced off home, already knowing exactly who to give it to. The other children complained after her, Seras they called her, rushing off to find someone as well, except the goalkeeper boy, he went home with his mother, perhaps he didn't notice how easily Menma could have helped his mother?

Maybe he'd end up helping the boy, see the world in a more critical light. Observational skills were clearly not his strong suit, his eyes may be a little _too_ clouded.

Menma grinned and sent the Little ones away, returning his tentacle trap to his body, with a shiver and a roll of his shoulders he made off to the bakery, he stilled owed Mathias.

 **Victoria Household**

Originally Seras had been hoping to give the little figurine to her father, as he seemed extra stressed recently, but all of a sudden her mother hid her in her wardrobe and the sounds of her father being beaten, her mother being beaten, it all became too much far too quickly.

She clutched the little idol tightly to her chest and sobbed, when she heard a gunshot little Seras jumped, fury filled her tiny heart as she saw one of them men who invaded her home standing over her father, he had been shot in the leg so he couldn't run, and her mother's clothes were rapidly being torn off.

Screaming with rage the littlest Victoria burst from the wardrobe and leapt onto the man holding her mother down and stabbed him in the eye with the figurine, the eyes on it glowed. " _This one hear the calls, what is your desire?_ "

"Kill them!" Seras choked out as the room suddenly went dark, only the sea green glow of something tracing through the air making any light, Seras fell onto her butt, her mother's arms wrapping around her quickly and holding her close. The lights came back on a new figure stood in the kitchen, a tall, lanky grey creature with horns and a white mane, torn up wings and lots of tails, a green glowing sword in its hands, Seras felt her throat tighten when it 'looked' at her, it didn't have any eyes, only a mouth.

It was splattered with blood, soggy meat where the thugs once stood.

The creature smiled gently, helping her father up, and sitting him in a chain, slowly the creature began to change shape, in Seras' eyes it became the lovely man from earlier, even his bright gold eyes that made her feel so safe.

"This one is deeply sorry he could not arrive sooner to assist you, he had to get his sword. He is not particularly... clean, when killing bare handed." He vaguely remembered the time he'd engraved the Blood Rapture rune onto his mind and went on a chest-ripping frenzy.

Henry Victoria was so out of it from blood loss that he barely managed anything coherent, "He has had an artery hit... Little Seras, this one can save your father with his blood, do you want this?" Her mother was too distraught and was much too busy sobbing into her daughter to answer, she nodded rapidly as he bit into his own palm, placing his bleeding hand against Henry's mouth and massaging the man's throat he swallowed the blood.

His wound healed so quickly it pushed the bullet out. Menma set the man in his chair and pat his shoulder, Brother Death appeared and began dragging the filthy meat out of the house to be disposed of, Menma went over to Seras and her mother, before the grown woman could see him he knocked her out, a simple nudge on her mind forced her to sleep until she was ready to calm down. The Little Ones carried her off to bed, and many more picked up Henry's chair and began to follow after the first lot.

Menma looked to Seras, eyes filled with worry as she constantly streamed silent tears down her face, "Come here, sweetheart." He bayed her forth and she collapsed against him, sobbing uncontrollably into his shirt, he rubbed her back and stroked her hair, his face constantly set in a heartbroken frown.

What was worse, her seeing him ripping those men apart with tentacles, or the trauma she experienced anyway? This would be a decision to sit with him for many years.

"This one will make it up to you, Seras. He promises." He swore gently, nursing her until she managed to cry herself to sleep, he picked up the figurine and made his way through the house until he found her room, placing her into the bed and tucking her in his placed the figurine on her bedside table and jotted down a little note.

' _Call upon this one when you wake, he will make sure all the bad is gone_.'

 _ **End**_

 **Review and all that good shtuff, questions will be answered, the usual stuff.**

 **Tatty-bye!**

 _ **Raxychaz!**_


	5. Chapter 5

**If anyone's curious I based Menma's true form off a nightgaunt from Call of Cthulhu, a mate of mine, Dean, introduced it to me many-many-many moons ago and the sneaky fucker stuck in my head to this day. So basically, ripped 'gaunt with fur and more tails.**

 **Just a little factoid for your supple minds.**

The next morning Seras awoke with a start, shaking as she quickly clutched the idol, the warm golden eyes began to form in the air first before the entire form of the tall, pale man that she now had a vested place in her little heart for, he promised help and help he did, he saved her mother and her father. The first thing little Seras did was leap into his arms and cling to him like a baby koala, he put an arm under her to keep her up before he made his way into the parents room, Henry and her mother, Abigail, were just coming out of it all.

They saw their daughter in the arms of a tall, grey clad man and were obviously worried, Henry more so, as the undiluted blood of a Great One had giving him great insight into the beyond, Menma had to cloud the man's vision with only his horns and his tails to prevent him from going into shock again.

"This one has returned to check on you all." Informed the Bloody Father, and following the explanation and the distress that came with it they were all sat around the kitchen table, the adults still shaky upon entering the room due to what happened not hours ago. But not evidence of the event even remained.

He ended up leaving a more intricate figurine on their table, "This one is always available, he strives to make the children happy. Old or young, you are all little to him." He joked, as he and Henry stood nearly a head apart in height. The family weren't exactly receptive to humor at this time, understandably so.

Seras asked him to stay just a little longer, she was still very shaken up so he did so. Taking the young miss outside to get some fresh air, "Why do people do bad things, Mr. Menma?" She croaked out after a few minutes of silence.

"This one does not have all the answers, little Seras. But in this situation it seems pretty clear cut your father's cover was blown by some outside influence and he was put into harm's way, and by proxy so were you. This one shudders to think what would have happened if he arrived any later." The thought of her mother being raped and her father being executed wasn't a pleasant one for the Great One.

And it was quite possible, power was easiest to display upon the hindered and weak. Thus was part of the reason for his existence in the way it had come to be, he helped the weak and saved the feeble. Such was his much more recent prerogative.

Imparting a few more words of wisdom and wishing her a speedy recovery he bayed her spend her time with her family, as it was a precious commodity. "Ah, before he forgets, your prize for being the first, little Seras." He pulled a lavish looking vial from his sleeve and handed it to her, a little red bow and everything, the liquid within danced with a life of its own, one thing that made her curious was how much lighter in tone it seemed to be regular blood.

"This is called Paleblood, with it little Seras will be much more than a mere human, he feels she will do great things with this. If you have Dreams, seek him out." Cryptic though it was Seras got the meaning, she was a special case and got a _very_ special present. "Drink it when you being to bloom, otherwise it may end up doing quite the number on your little body." He ordered, ruffling her hair as he got up to leave. "This one is quite serious about this, but he thinks you can appreciate the wait for such a rare gift. Have a lovely day, little Seras. I will be watching over you." With a small bow he vanished into a flux of arcane energy, it made the nine year olds skin tickle as the residual energy washed over her.

Seras clutched the little bottle to her chest and was resolved to _only_ drink it when it was safe, she'd had trust put into her and she wouldn't betray it, but! She did go and ask her parents what 'blooming' meant.

A much more lighthearted discussion than the atmosphere would usually permit turned a child into a steam engine, with how powerful her blush was.

 **Hellsing Manor**

The grey clad God reappeared in his room, the aesthetic was warped and strange, frames floating in the air with, to normal people, nothing in them. In fact each of these were little windows into the various Dreams he controlled, just little viewing points. Doll bowed at his arrival, "Welcome home, Good Hunter." Menma smiled and picked her up into a hug with a twirl, the Doll gasped at the sudden interaction but wasn't adverse to it happening.

"Thank you, dear. This one is looking forward to being home for a while." He set her down and pecked her cheek, getting a bashful look in response. Menma pulled off his hat and jacket before sitting down in one of the chairs in his room, sighing contentedly a hot cup of tea was presented on a tray that he took, Doll sitting across from him and sipping at her own.

Voices came to him through the various idols he'd given out, empty vials floated out of their container in the corner of the room, blood flowing from a cut he'd bit into his lip and filling them. One by one each of the filled vials was sucked away into a little vortex of blue, the whispers ceased satisfied and grateful.

"It's good to be this one." He murmured, "Did he do the right thing, Doll?" Menma asked, getting her attention, her look urged him to continue, "If he had just left his blade aside he could have spared little Seras of a great deal of torment, instead he chose shielding her from the Eldritch nature of him over her own safety."

"Oh Good Hunter." She crooned softly, looking at him fondly as he thought over the dilemma, "You have grown much, and so kind. But both ways lead to the child being scarred in one way or another. It is better this way, for now."

At the end of the day it didn't really matter as he'd bestowed paleblood upon her as compensation, so she'd be bloody well finding out about the truth soon, puberty wouldn't be that far away for her. Lamenting over it wouldn't accomplish anything so it's not like it mattered anyway, a few years down the line and he'd have to deal with it then.

Leave tomorrow's problems for tomorrow.

The sound of someone stepping through his wall alerted him to Alucard's presence, returning to his male form, the slightly shorter male nodded in direction of the Great One, "Had fun traipsing about London?" He asked with a knowing grin, Menma tilted his head to look his fellow monster in the eyes gold and red meeting, one peppered with mirth and the other with a slight solemn tint.

"Come now, we're going to stretch those legs of yours. It'll do you good!" Commanded Alucard, grin spreading further. Doll had the smallest of frowns on her face, mostly due to the fact that this man was digging into her time with the Good Hunter. And she didn't appreciate that much.

"And how will this be done?" Menma asked curiously.

"Why we're going to go down to the basement and smack the everloving hell out of one another until I feel satisfied." Alucard answered, as though it were the most obvious thing ever said.

"This one would have made a tawdry joke were you still in your fairer form." Menma admitted shameleslessly, a small grin grown on his face.

"Go on, I'll let you." Alucard urged.

"This one is sure it would take more than a simple tussle to satisfy a beast like you."

"Not bad, next time don't let the moment pass though." Advised the Vampire, getting a simple nod in response. "Comedic timing is _everything_."

"This one will remember that, but you wished for a bout, shall we away?" Alucard nodded, Menma grabbed his hat, and laid a chaste kiss on his irreplaceable Doll's cheek before leaving the room.

 **Alucard's Super-Funtime-Happy-Dungeon**

Arcs of green light followed each speedy strike that came from the Great One, Alucard took every wound with a grin and gave as good as he got, take a sword to the chest? Shoot Menma in the arm, tentacle rips of your arm? Shoot Menma in the face.

A good time to bond really.

Menma lunged forward and hopped into the air, swinging vertically, and rolling through into the attack, his numerous tails shredding Alucard apart, when the Great One landed his body was shrouded in arcane power, portals opened up and tentacles leapt out from the multiple abrasions in the air, lashing and trapping the vampire, lifting a hand towards the trapped vampire several blobs began to form, " _Black Sky Rain_." Intoned the Great One, as hundreds of eyeball sized orbs shot at Alucard and turned the vampire into a mess of gore and blood.

Menma released his grip on the creature and watched patiently as Alucard began to reform, only to cop a bullet to the face, blowing off a good portion of his faux skull, "Transform already, show me your _real_ power!" Ordered the red clad man.

Menma grunted and rubbed his grey cranium, "This one feels like there is some hostility here." Muttered the Great One, human skin seemingly disappearing, revealing the grey skinned beast beneath. Menma's feet stopped touching the ground, his sword began floating at his side and the Great One's form exuded an unnerving amount of power.

Alucard grinned broadly then proceeded to utter out the various requirements to unseal his power as far as he was able on his own, without Integra's say so. His coat melted away and his hair lengthened, leaving the vampire in his straight jacket looking outfit and gloves.

"YES! NOW, FIGHT ME!" Vampire and Great One clashed like a raging tide, foregoing weaponry it was down to fighting with claws and teeth. Menma bit into Alucard's neck and tore the Vampires throat out, said creature responded by ripping off his tails and lashing them around his neck, in attempts to strangle him.

Menma released an ear splitting roar/scream, Alucard's vision swam as his body actually destabilized somewhat, the Vampire stumbled back, the Eldritch monstrosity licked his chops as he assimilated the new blood that he'd wretched from his unwilling donor, such was the gift of the Hunt.

Blood, the currency of battle. He'd accrued much over his time, the echoes of the ancients flourished within him, Alucard's blood was no different, though instead of the usual minor flux of memories, screams, anguish filled cries, tormented wails.

This he was unprepared for.

" _Wh_ **at** _**is**_ **t** he m **e** _ **an**_ _in_ g o **f** th _ **is**_!?" Demanded the Great One, voice warbling and warping.

"Hah! Regretting that now, hm? How strange." The Great One growled lowly, righting himself, his tails reforming, as he leapt forward uppercutting the Vampire into the air, and with a beat of his wings, followed after his prey. Alucard was laughing like a maniac all the way.

The sight of the grey skinned creature from beyond human comprehension airiel suplexing her pet Vampire was the sight Integra found herself looking upon, twitching rapidly as her mind tried to comprehend what could have set the gentle beast off so. Walter coughed into his hand, "Miss Integra, is it really so wise to remain?" Questioned the butler.

Menma roundhoused Alucard back into the air before flying up after him, arcane power flooding off his body, portals opened up once more as the Great One literally ripped Alucard in half and threw the remains onto the ground, before bombarding the creature with blue missiles.

"WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING?!" The little lady bellowed furiously, Menma phasing into one of his various portals and reappearing back onto the ground, Alucard already reforming, a smug grin on his face.

"Engaging in fisticuffs!" Answered the Great One, shell reforming rapidly.

"Ah, my master. What can we do for you?" Asked the blood drinker with a Cheshire grin.

 **3 Years later; Hellsing Manor**

Relations between the two superbeings had been tense since then, Menma would at times be staring _through_ Alucard, as though peering into the souls the creature kept trapped within it. The Great One cared for little else, he kept the same routine. Training his squad to work efficiently, administering blood to his followers, unknowingly becoming the 'new faith' amongst the average man.

Various idols could be found in shops, houses. Everywhere that wasn't the major churches, you could more than likely find an idol. Many of the locals in London found solace in the embrace of the Great Father, that and the blood he offered was better than any intoxicant could be. The euphoria was always the same and always required the same amount, so addiction was less frequent but still an unfortunate side effect.

He'd snuck some to Walter, after months of pestering the aging man, he looked a good deal healthier, less grey's in his hair and his face smoothing out ever so slightly, still looking like an English gentleman, but now not looking so old.

Integra was rapidly growing into a fine young woman, though with that came a rather hard headed approach to people. One great example was when Sir Shelby M. Penwood came to visit to see the 'new' Hellsing.

On a quick side-note Menma found the man delightful.

Integra put on her 'stone-cold' face and basically bullied the poor man into respecting her. It was thoroughly amusing to watch a 13 year old tear into a 42 year old man, Menma was almost certain that Sir Penwood had a little twinkle in his eye when he left the estate. But time had seemingly flown past the event and now at 15 the young mistress could begin to hold her own in even the fiercest of situations.

Seras had been taken under his wing, for obvious reasons. The paleblood had worked wonders on the girl as she'd begun her steps into puberty. She'd shot up rather quickly and looking almost comically lanky for several months as the rest of her body tried to fill out the new space.

Now at the age of 12 Seras stood a proud 5' 3" easily matching Integra, her once shining blue eyes had taken a slightly silvery hue to them, making them more glacial in colour. Though her hair had changed as well, becoming a strawberry blonde instead of the almost orange that she previously had.

Menma was currently sitting in his room within the manor, a visiting Seras was seated across from him, fiddling with her augur, the happy little creature like an excited kitten in her hands. The young woman was coming along well in the basics he wished to impart for the moment, _and_ she wasn't driven insane by the information thus far.

But there were things Menma would never, could never reveal to anyone.

Such as when he went into the sea and slumbered, trying to connect his mind to the cosmos itself.

He wished he'd never done so.

The millions of revelations each second granted during his slumber tormented him even now, the sheer expanse of that great void had scarred him in ways no blade ever could, the knowledge that _he_ as an entity was completely alone in the galaxy, that all the others had either died or vanished had startled and horrified him. In his avarice, and his greed for power he'd unknowingly damned himself to a solitude filled existence for eternity, for even when the stars in the skies burned out, and the cosmos began to reshape itself, he would persevere.

The only solace was the fact he'd be able to salvage millions of consciousnesses in his dreams, and even the nightmares would grant him company in some manner or another. So in a way he was within company constantly, but also he was not. It was a... trifling, thing.

On a slightly less depressing-only slightly-note, no members of the Vatican had encroached upon their territory. And even his children that had braved their own potential deaths hadn't delivered him substantial evidence as to _who_ ordered the deaths of his other children. It was vexing that he could not act without possibly slaughtering the wrong people, he needed to be completely sure that those he would put to the blade were not innocent.

It almost bothered him how careful he had to be.

Such was his new lot in life though.

 **End Of Chapter**

 **cutting it here because if I don't I'll never end up releasing the fucker.**

 **I've had a really hard time writing recently, I dunno why. But it's like hitting a roadblock in my own head. It's just easier to play games and thrown my mind into the depths of hell.**

 _ **Raxychaz!**_


End file.
